Confession
by Cirocco
Summary: Mike Logan comes out to the 27th precinct (assumes a relationship with Jack McCoy)


**Author's Note:** This story assumes that Mike Logan never punched out that councilman - or at least, never got transferred out to Staten Island because of it. It takes place sometime around 1997 or so. It's partly inspired by Trig's series (the one that starts with 'New York Rain').

This actually has nothing to do with the New York Rain series, other than the fact that we're both using characters from Law and Order without permission. However, one of Trig's last stories in the series ('Mirror, Mirror') takes place after Logan and McCoy have both come out at their respective workplaces. It made me wonder... what would the actual coming-out be like? Especially for Logan, who works in a fairly traditional, patriarchal and not usually accepting workplace? Hence this story.

Squeaky-clean except for language, no sex, not even implied. No particular plot, either. Just a day in the life of a newly-out member of the NYPD.

**ooo000ooo**

Mike Logan stood at the back of the room, feeling increasingly nervous as the morning meeting went on and on. This pair had just closed an investigation; that pair had finally made an arrest in a six-month old case; the precinct was going to host bunch of visiting cops from England; a fund raiser for cop widows and orphans was being planned. His tension level kept rising as the time for the end of the announcements approached, until he thought he was going to throw up. This is ridiculous, he thought, Jack and I talked about this and we agreed. It's no big deal. He came out at work and the world didn't stop spinning; I can do this too.

But he works with lawyers, Mikey. You work with cops. Cops are different. Remember Officer Newhouse.

Finally, Van Buren was finishing up. There was a brief rustle as the officers started to gather briefcases, files and jackets to prepare for the rush out of the room. Van Buren glanced at Logan and raised her eyebrows slightly. Logan nodded before he could let himself think about it.

"One more thing, people, Detective Logan has something to say." Van Buren sat down and smiled encouragingly at Logan. The other officers paused and looked behind them. Logan suddenly found himself the object of scrutiny for a roomful of eyes. He swallowed.

"Uh... OK." Logan looked down at Briscoe, who was calmly projecting encouragement at him. Sotto voce, he muttered, "Shit, this is gonna be harder than I thought." Briscoe smiled tightly. Logan took a deep breath and steadied himself. OK, this is no different from facing a perp you think may turn violent - you show no weakness. Project strength. Be matter-of-fact. There's no big story here, it's not a big deal. The other officers were looking at him impassively, waiting, curious.

"OK, this is sort of semi-personal, so bear with me for a minute." He cleared his throat. "Um, OK. I don't know if anybody here has heard rumours going around about me -" Logan noted a couple of starts among the faces turned towards him - he figured some of them had probably already heard - "that I'm, uh, involved with EADA Jack McCoy." A few gasps, many more puzzled looks shared among the uniforms and detectives of the 27th. Apparently the gossip hadn't gone too far yet.

Logan took a breath, knowing that what he said next could never be undone but not wanting to look like he was nervous or hesitant. "Well, I just wanted to address this before the rumours get out of hand. It's true. McCoy and I have been together for about two years now." Logan was gripped with a fleeting desire to giggle at the stunned looks on the faces turned towards him. Most were very obviously hearing this for the first time; others looked like they might have heard something, but never expected him to admit to anything. He felt, amazingly, a sense of calm descend over him. It was done now, and he was still alive. "It's, uh, it's not a secret. Lt. Van Buren has known for a while, the subject came up at the DA's office last week so they all know, and now all of you do too." He stopped. Another breath. "Look, uh, I'm not volunteering anything about my personal life here, but I also don't wanna be the subject of office gossip. So if anybody has a problem with me or my relationship with Jack McCoy, I would appreciate it if you come and talk to me about it. To my face, not behind my back. Thanks." He looked back at Van Buren. "That's it, I guess."

"OK, people, let's go," she took her cue, no-nonsense voice cutting through the silence in the room. The police officers quickly got up to go amid a buzz of conversation.

Logan looked down at Briscoe.

"Balls of steel, my friend," Briscoe grinned up at him. "Wanna go for an early coffee break?"

"Uh, no." Logan swallowed. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he admitted softly. He could feel his body trembling and knew he was shaking and probably pale. He wiped his hand across his mouth nervously. Briscoe looked at him sympathetically and stood up, leaning close and lowering his voice so that only Logan could hear him.

"Yeah. You look like it. You think you wanna take a little while away from the squad room before you go in and face everybody?"

"Lennie... if I leave now, it'll be a lot harder to go back into the squad room later. I mean, hey, what's the big deal, right? I just told people that I'm dating somebody, it's not like I confessed to the Lindberg baby kidnapping. I gotta just go to my desk and go to work and not think about it. OK?"

"Sure. Let's go." Briscoe touched Logan's shoulder as they left the room. "You know I'm with you on this, right Mikey?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Logan didn't dare glance around, knowing that other cops were probably looking at him and Briscoe. He concentrated on the floor as he walked to his desk. God, how could he never have noticed how long the distance was between the meeting room and his desk?

Logan rooted around on his desk aimlessly for a moment, then stopped and thought about what he was supposed to be doing today. If today had not started off by coming out to his fellow officers, what would he have been doing right now?

Right. Amanda Kitani's story - he was supposed to be calling around and seeing where she was the night her boyfriend was murdered. Now, where was her boss's number?

Moments later, having found a purpose and the number, he was dialing, trying to remember what it was he was supposed to ask. Right. The girl had said that she was working until about 7pm.

"Hello, is this, uh," he looked up the name, "Flora? Yeah, Flora McDonnel. MacDonnell, sorry. Yeah, this is Detective Mike Logan, I'm calling to ask about Amanda Kitani." Moments later, he was back on track, trying to figure out whether the girl's alibi was solid or not.

An hour later, he checked his e-mail messages. The library stating there was no record of an Amanda Kitani taking books out on the 27th. A departmental announcement re. pension deduction increases. One from Jack ('SUBJECT: How did it go? NIM'). One from Officer Frannie Brundel:

--

_From: __fbrundelnypdorg_

_Subject: this morning_

_Mike, wow, that took guts. Guess now I know why you haven't been talking about your dates that much in the last couple of years. I'll take down that torch I've been carrying for ya big guy, ha ha._

_Frannie_

--

One from an unknown e-mail address:

--

_From: __h78hbu766yahoocom_

_Subject: fucking faggot_

_You stupid cocksucker, what you like it when McCoy sticks his dick up your ass?! You better watch out, Mikey, some day backup won't show up when you need 'em! Or maybe somebody's not gonna wait for some perp to shoot you! No fucking faggot belongs in a uniform - you sick fucks belong in jail where you can fuck and suck each other without making the rest of us sick!_

--

Logan stared at the screen. One hour. That's how long it had taken somebody to react like this. OK. This was OK, it was expected. Logan paged down to the next message.

--

_From: __jkwonnypdorg_

_Subject:_

_Logan__, good for you.__ Gesselie said last week that one of the __ADA__'s told him you and McCoy were a couple. I didn't believe it, but Gesselie said that the __ADA__ was pretty sure. You could have just denied it or ignored it. It takes balls to face everyone like you did. I just wanted to let you know I have no problem with you or Jack._

_Cheers,_

_Jim_

--

Logan smiled. Typical of Jim Kwon - straightforward and supportive. Good to know.

--

_From: __jstephensnypdorg_

_Subject: Today_

_I don't have a problem with whatever you do in private, but I don't think it was appropriate for you to bring this up at the precinct. Nobody needs to know what you do in your bedroom!_

_I hope you know that you've just made your job a lot more difficult. There will be many officers who don't feel comfortable working with you, myself included._

_Paul Stephens_

--

Logan sighed. He typed back quick thanks to Brundel and Kwon, then replied to Stephens.

--

_From: __mlogannypdorg_

_Subject: Re: Today_

_I don't have a problem with whatever you do in private, but I don't think it  
was appropriate for you to bring this up at the precinct. Nobody needs to  
know what you do in your bedroom!_

_Nobody does. All you know is who is in my bedroom, not what happens there._

--

He paused over the send button, then quickly typed in

--

_But thanks anyway for writing. I'd rather hear this direct than through other people._

_Mike_

--

OK. End of messages. This was OK. Two supportive, two not so supportive. Suddenly he was seized by an urge to talk to Jack. No. Not Jack, not right now - he'd blurt out the nasty message before he could really get a distance from it, and that would just worry Jack for no good reason.

"Lennie?"

"Yeah?" Briscoe sounded preoccupied, not looking up from his papers as he tried to correlate names of guests at the Ramada on 145th with people listed in Amanda Kitani's place of employment.

"About that coffee... how's now?"

"Yeah, Mike, in a second," Briscoe continued to scan the pages. Then he stopped, looked up at Logan. Raised his eyebrows. "Unless ya wanna go now?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I wanna go now." Logan kept his voice casual, hoping he didn't look as unsettled as he felt. For one moment, he wished with all his heart that he'd just kept his mouth shut. Shit, this was just the beginning. What the hell had he done? Why didn't he just leave it alone? How could he expose himself like this?

Then he remembered Jim Kwon's e-mail, and the faces of a few of the cops in the meeting room. The secret was out already - the only choice he'd had was facing it head-on or allowing it to filter through the 27th until everyone knew but nobody had been told. Until they all thought he was trying to hide.

He had never felt so vulnerable, exposed, raw. The walk out of the squad room and over to the coffee room was interminable, and he couldn't make himself meet any eyes. Briscoe, god bless him, decided to cover for his partner's discomfort by rattling off everything he'd been doing that morning. Logan soon got caught up in the details of Briscoe's findings and became involved in a heated debate about the merits of one suspect versus another. So involved, in fact, that when they entered the coffee room he at first didn't notice the sudden hush. Then he looked up and saw five faces staring at him guiltily and then looking away, and Briscoe frowning. Shit.

"'Scuse me," Briscoe shouldered his way past the coffee table and headed for the burbling coffee maker. The five cops at the table suddenly, almost of one mind, gathered up their cups and stood up, filing out silently. Logan looked at the door closing behind him. He turned and saw Briscoe pouring coffee for both of them, concentrating on the task with alarming intensity.

Logan cleared his throat. "Guess I should've seen that coming."

"Yeah." Lennie fiddled with the coffee maker. "Hey, Mike, you can't be sure they left 'cause of you. They probably had to get back to, I dunno, police work or something."

"Right. So much that they couldn't even stop to say hi." Logan took a deep breath. He was a big boy, he could handle the cold shoulder for a while. At least Briscoe wasn't shunning him.

The door opened, and Det. Selan walked in, stopping when he saw Logan and Briscoe. "Oh, um, have you seen Jerry?" he looked at Briscoe.

Logan answered him. "Yeah. Just left."

"Uh, thanks," Selan mumbled at the floor, and backed out quickly.

"I get the feeling it's gonna get pretty lonely around here," Logan commented.

"You made the right decision, Mike. They'll come around." Briscoe sat down, pulling a chair out for Logan. "Siddown."

The door opened again, and Det. Tomlinson stopped short when he saw Briscoe and Logan. Then he entered and poured himself a coffee. "Mind if I join you?"

Briscoe smiled, "Siddown, take a load off." Silence reigned for a few uncomfortable moments, then Briscoe said, "So Tommy, how's that hooker case going?"

"Huh? Oh, the... yeah, well, it's going nowhere fast, man." Tomlinson, clearly ill at ease, started to recount the past few day's events, relaxing as he talked. Logan just listened as he and Briscoe talked about the case, then slid into a discussion debating the merits of legalizing marijuana.

"I mean, fer chrissakes, this kid's fine except for the weed. If she could get it legal, then she wouldn't have to hide, ya know?"

"Yeah, well, she'd still have to pay for it. She'd still be shelling out more money than she's got, so she'd still have to turn tricks to pay for it," Briscoe pointed out.

"Yeah, but you could say the same thing about paying for booze or even cigarettes," Logan joined in.

"Exactly," Tomlinson nodded vigorously, "It's stupid. Ya know how much time and money we spend policing this crap? And how much we could use that tracking down, oh I dunno, murderers and rapists instead?"

"Hey, enough, enough already. We've had this same argument before and I'm probably not gonna change my mind anytime soon. Lay off," Briscoe grumped, secretly pleased that at least Tomlinson was willing to talk to Logan.

"Yeah, but it's everywhere, man. Hell, I bet more'n a third of the guys at the precinct smoke up. You can't just ignore it," Logan sipped his coffee.

"I bet a lot more than that," Tomlinson added, "Remember Gesselie's promotion party?" Logan and Tomlinson shared a grin at the memory. While Logan hadn't partaken, he knew that many of the younger cops at the party had been passing around joints in the basement of Gesselie's home, and it had definitely been amusing to watch them all getting silly and red-eyed and avoiding the older officers. He chuckled.

"Did you have any that night?" Logan asked Tomlinson.

"Hey, hey, don't ask, don't tell, man," Tomlinson froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. There was a second of silence, then Logan burst out laughing. Briscoe guffawed and elbowed Tomlinson.

"Wow, that's a good shade of red on you. You OK?"

Tomlinson swallowed, smiling nervously. "Mike, I didn't mean - uh, I mean-"

"Relax. I'm not offended. It's OK," Tomlinson chuckled and shook his head at himself. At that moment, Det. Juarez opened the door and froze, staring at his partner laughing with Briscoe and Logan.

"Tom. We gotta go talk to the store owner," he said brusquely. Tomlinson sobered up and quickly got up to go, not looking back at Briscoe or Logan.

"See ya," he called back over his shoulder.

Logan and Briscoe sat in silence. Finally Briscoe quietly asked, "How ya doing?"

"Pretty good, considering." Logan answered distractedly.

"You knew some people would be nervous. That's all it is, Mike. They know you. They'll get over it," Briscoe tried to reassure him.

"Yeah. They'll get over it..." Logan looked at his empty coffee cup.

"What?" Briscoe asked him.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, OK. So what 'nothing' has you looking like that?"

Logan took a deep breath. "I, uh, I got a coupla e-mails."

"Yeah..."

"Nah, never mind. It's nothing."

"Mike. What did they say?"

"Well, a couple from Brundel and Kwon, saying they're OK with this. One from Stephens, thinks I shouldn't be telling the world. One... it didn't say who it was from, but... it was pretty negative."

"Negative how?"

"Pretty... negative. You'd have to read it. I don't think it's anything to worry about, but... maybe it is, I dunno."

**ooo000ooo**

Briscoe and Logan stood in front of the screen. Briscoe's eyes widened as he read the e-mail. "Mike, Jesus! What the hell do you mean, it's nothing to worry about? You nuts?"

"Hey. Keep your voice down," Logan murmured. From the corner of his eye he could see other people looking at them curiously.

"The hell! You can't ignore something like this - "

"Lennie! Keep your fucking voice down!" Logan hissed at him. Briscoe shut his mouth and took a step back.

"Fine. Downstairs. We'll talk it out in the car." He turned to go.

"Hang on, we may as well go to the Ramada while we're at it, not waste the trip. You got your notes?"

"What are you, nuts? You wanna work while this is going on?"

"Lay off!" Logan warned, snatched up his notes and stalked out of the squad room.

**ooo000ooo**

Two hours later they had checked the Ramada and questioned the chambermaids, but were still no closer to any kind of resolution on the e-mail. The argument had gone back and forth during every break in the work, and Logan was getting sick of it. Weary and out-of-sorts, they trudged back to the precinct.

"Gonna check your e-mail, Mikey? See if there's any other love notes for ya?" Lennie asked snidely.

"Wouldja drop it, already? Christ, I never shoulda told you!" Logan muttered under his breath as he headed in.

"Mike. I'm on your side, remember?" Briscoe tugged at his arm to get him to turn around. "Please, just tell Jack, OK? He deserves to know."

"It's gonna worry him for no good reason. It's just some asshole venting," Mike tiredly stood his ground.

"Logan!" Officer Jansen called out as they entered the squad room.

"What?!" Logan turned to him impatiently.

"Hey, easy, man, I just wanted to tell you some blonde was here looking for ya."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, leggy, real looker, just your type - uh," Jansen suddenly stammered to a stop, his easy grin fading as he remembered the contents of that morning's meeting. Logan sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

"Sorry, man, I just... uh..." Jansen stared at the floor.

"No problem." Logan muttered.

"Look." Jansen hesitantly approached, glancing about at the squad room as he did so. "Look, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just - it's thrown a lot of people for a loop, OK? We just never suspected - I mean, it wasn't like anybody could have seen this coming, you know? Give it some time, we'll all get used to it. Oh, here's the blonde's name and phone number."

Logan took the piece of paper. He glanced at Briscoe, then back at Jansen. "Thanks. Thanks, that means a lot." Jansen went back to his desk. Logan and Briscoe sat down at theirs, and Logan thought for a minute.

"Lennie."

"What?" Briscoe's tone was brusque.

"Lennie, I'm not gonna debate this with you all day. Please, just drop it, OK? I'm meeting Jack for lunch and if it comes up, it comes up. If it doesn't, it doesn't. OK?"

Briscoe regarded him for a few moments. "OK, can we make a deal? You check your e-mail again before you go. If there's another one like the first, you tell Jack. If not, make up your own mind. I still think he needs to know but yeah, yeah, I know, it'll just make him worry about you for no good reason and the fact that whoever sent this might go after him doesn't seem to bother you."

"Fine." Logan set his jaw. He checked e-mail. Five messages - from Seres and Hyatt, both varying degrees of support, one from Nunez, mildly disapproving and informing him that this didn't make Lennie look good (Mike snorted at that one), one from the union, and another anonymous.

--

_From: __J897iuuty126hotmailcom_

_Subject: fuck off_

_Go jerk yourself and your faggot boyfriend somewhere else, you sick fuck. Your disgusting!!_

--

"Mike?"

Logan was silent.

"Mike? Are you telling him or not?"

Logan gazed at Briscoe, not sure of what to say. Finally Briscoe got up and looked over his shoulder. He gave a low whistle.

"I guess this means yes."

"No, it doesn't," Logan put up a hand to stave off Briscoe's immediate reaction. "Hold on, hold on. Look, it's not the same address."

"So they just got another dummy address, even I could probably do that fer chrissakes -"

"And there's no threat here. It's an opinion, that's all. There wasn't even a real threat in the first one-"

"Just an opinion, yeah, yeah, we went over that. Look, it's the same person. They both say 'you sick fuck'-"

"Lennie, that's not real original. Plus this one has grammar errors - forgets to finish off jerk off, types 'your' instead of 'you're'-"

"What are ya, a writing analyst all of a sudden? And what does it matter even if it is two separate people? The point is you have to tell Jack!"

"Lay off!!" Logan snapped angrily. Heads turned. He lowered his voice. "Just let it go, OK?"

"Fine!" Briscoe snapped back. They both buried themselves back in their work. Almost immediately, Logan's phone rang.

"Logan!" he barked into it.

"I guess I don't have to ask how your morning has been," McCoy's even voice replied after a pause. Logan winced inwardly.

"Jack," He noticed Briscoe look up sharply, then studiously return to his papers. "Jack, hey, what's up."

"How about you tell me? I need to stop by and talk to Van Buren for a couple of minutes, should I pick you up for lunch right after or would that be awkward today?"

"Uh, no, that'll be fine."

There was a pause. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Logan smiled. "No, not really. Not here, anyway. It's been a pretty good day overall... mostly."

McCoy heard the subtle hesitation, and made a mental note to question Logan further once they were in private. "OK, then, I'll pick you up in about 45 minutes."

"Great. See you then." He placed the phone down, and, not bothering to look up, told Briscoe, "All right, all right. I'll think about telling him. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Briscoe snapped.

**ooo000ooo**

An hour later, McCoy walked into the precinct. Logan happened to look up as he entered the squad room, and felt like a breath of fresh air had just blown in. It was all he could do to not stand up and cheer, and he quickly bent his head down to his work before anybody could see his face. McCoy stopped by their desks.

"Hi," Logan looked up, smiled at him with uncharacteristic shyness. While it felt good to know that he didn't have to hide any more, that the secret was out, it also felt disconcerting to know that sharp eyes were watching and evaluating his reactions to a simple hello. And it didn't help that he felt like getting up and holding on to Jack for dear life, wishing desperately that Jack could just hug him and make all of this OK. Take away the sick feeling at the thought of the e-mails, the sniggers and the pointed looks, remind him of why he was exposing himself to this kind of abuse...

McCoy took in the shy smile, the slight strain around the eyes and shoulders. He raised his eyebrows in silent communication. Logan shook his head slightly. Not here, not now. "Go see Van Buren."

McCoy hesitated, then put a hand on Logan's left arm where it rested on the desk. Logan stiffened and McCoy started to draw back, but then Logan quickly covered McCoy's hand with his own right hand. They stayed like that for a moment, gazing down at their clasped hands, drawing strength from the simple touch. Then Logan squeezed his hand once and moved away. "See you in a minute," he said, and picked up his phone again.

McCoy made his way to Van Buren's office, only to find that she was away. Shrugging, he turned to return to Logan, bumping into Officer Brundel.

"Oops, sorry-" the young woman's eyes widened as she recognized him, and McCoy braced himself for awkwardness. To his surprise, she broke into a friendly grin, bright brown eyes crinkling at the edges. "Mr. McCoy. I guess, uh, belated congratulations on snagging Logan!" she punched his shoulder lightly. "Y'all take care of him, OK? He's good people." And she continued on her way, leaving behind a somewhat flustered McCoy.

McCoy stopped at Logan's desk. "OK. Ready to go?"

"Ready." Logan stood up and grabbed his coat. "Lennie? You joining us?"

"Nah. I gotta bunch of stuff to do... besides, you two could probably use the chance to talk."

Logan glared at him, but he'd already turned away. He followed McCoy out of the squad room, ignoring the whispers and looks, and wondered what the hell he was going to do about those e-mails.

**ooo000ooo**

At the end of the day, Logan and McCoy walked out the door of Hogan Place and went to their car.

"So... are you going to tell me what's had you looking like that all day?"

"Jack..."

"Mike..." McCoy repeated in the same tone of voice. Logan smiled tiredly.

"You never said a word during lunch about how things went today. You kept distracting me with the Kitani case. Would you mind letting me in, now?"

"Fine." Logan stared out the window at the passing cars, thinking.

"...Mike? Still there? Or am I to construe from your silence that your day mostly consisted of silence also? Did your coworkers give you the silent treatment, or stare out the window when you were around, or suddenly take a mass vow of silence?"

Logan sighed. "It mostly went OK. I actually got quite a few supportive e-mails and comments and stuff. Eight, by last count. And Brundel - well, you saw her. She's accepting. And Tomlinson had a coffee with me and Lennie - although his partner wasn't too happy with that. There were a few whispers and people not meeting my eyes and all that, but nothing too bad." He paused hesitantly.

"So why did Lennie keep staring daggers at you every time I was around?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that. Look, Jack, it's nothing, OK? Just three anonymous e-mails with lotsa four-letter words, two before lunch and one right after. Lennie just thought they looked threatening."

"Why would Lennie think that?" McCoy kept his voice even, not wanting to provoke defensiveness. Logan turned and looked at him, considering his words before speaking.

"Because one of them said, 'one of these days backup won't show up, or maybe somebody's not gonna wait for some perp to shoot you'. Lennie took that as a threat."

McCoy felt his stomach flip over and his fists clench on the steering wheel. He swallowed, trying to keep calm. "And you don't?"

"Well, it finished off that us 'sick fucks' belong in jail, instead of dead. I took that to mean that whoever wrote it wouldn't be too sad to see me killed but probably wouldn't do the job personally."

"And the part about not waiting for a perp to shoot you? You don't find that just a little-" Jack broke off, realizing from Logan's indrawn breath that he was slipping into confrontational mode. He paused. "You don't think that's threatening?"

"Frankly, no. I'm not sure, but... it just didn't read like somebody who was gonna try to kill me. Just somebody who didn't like me very much."

"So... are you going to tell Van Buren? Try to track this person down?"

"What, alert everybody to the fact that not only am I queer and shacked up with a lawyer, but I can't take some nasty names? There goes whatever's left of my credibility at the precinct."

They lapsed into silence, each alone with their thoughts.

"So... other than that, how're you doing?" McCoy searched for a neutral topic, hoping to distance them from the inflammatory e-mail until he could deal with it rationally.

"Pretty good, actually. It was kinda weird seeing you walk in to the precinct and knowing that everybody there knew, that we didn't havta pretend any more."

"Weird good or weird bad?"

"Mostly good. Not that we're going to neck in the squad room, but at least I don't have to make sure we don't keep eye contact for too long. I don't like knowing that people are watching now, but what the hell. I'll get over it."

"Mike." McCoy waited until Logan looked back at him. He hesitated, wanting so much to be reassured, but not knowing how to ask, "Do you think this is worth it?"

"Not like we have any choice now, do we? It's a one-way street, we can't go back." Logan sighed heavily. McCoy felt his heart sink.

"That doesn't sound like you think it was the right decision."

"No, I... I do. It's just gonna be hard at first. We'll be fine."

McCoy was silent. Logan reached out and gently brushed McCoy's hair back from his forehead, then touched his hand on the steering wheel.

"Jack... love, we'll be fine. I want this. It's worth it. No regrets."

McCoy turned and met Logan's eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment, then McCoy smiled gently and stroked the side of Logan's face.

"OK."

They drove the rest of the way home in comfortable silence.

Finis.


End file.
